Playing House
by Pink Apples
Summary: They were a sort of sick family, that small group of deranged Nobodies. [AxelMarluxiaRoxasLarxene]


**A/N: **Short, but my friends liked it, so I'm uploading it.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Kingdom Hearts. God help me if I did :3

They were a sort of sick family, that small group of Nobodies.

Roxas remembered his first trip to Castle Oblivion, where the air smelled like fire and felt like ice. Where more light dwelled than darkness, but not a warm or welcoming light, it was the kind of freakishly clean hospital white. White walls reflected off of the spotless mirrors, clear enough that you could lose your own eyes in them.

The entire place was quiet. The halls were quiet, the rooms were quiet. Even during a conversation, every word spoken was one that sounded like the first awkward uttering after a long silence between the speakers.

Roxas remembered the first conversation he heard in that castle.

He had been wandering on the ninth floor – there were thirteen in all, as if the castle had been dedicated to his number before he even joined – when he met them.

The boy was already familiar with Axel. Scorching hair and a sharp tongue were pretty hard to forget.

The other two he didn't recognize from his inauguration meeting. A scowling woman, with peculiarly-shaped blonde hair, and an equally irritated looking man with bright pink hair – both were introduced to his as Larxene and Marluxia.

They frightened Roxas.

They became friends first, he supposed, exchanging dull conversation among one another. Roxas couldn't help but feel left out, alienated, unwanted – he overheard Larxene muttering to Marluxia about what a fool Axel was to invite them to one of their "gatherings". Axel overheard, but pretended not to hear her.

Only when conversation shifted to dirtier things did Roxas truly begin to realize how excluded he really was.

"You can tag along if you like," Axel had purred, as Larxene began massaging his chest while Marluxia worked at the zipper at the woman's coat.

Roxas shook his head, silently but swiftly turning on his heel and striding right out the door. He heard Larxene mutter about how much of a virgin he was on the other side, before all conversation in the room shifted to guttural moans and shrieks of pleasure. Roxas listened to the whole thing.

Sounds within the castle walls weren't so awkward when they weren't words, he figured.

Roxas didn't visit the castle again for another week.

The same thing happened – a light conversation would be maintained, usually about things like the weather and missions and Heartless and other boring topics. Roxas could tell they were waiting for him to leave. He never did.

Roxas decided he liked participating in sex better than just hearing it.

Over the course of about a month, the same routine was maintained. And they developed swiftly, in Roxas's mind, from some sort of friends to a kind of sex group to a family. A very sick family, but a family, no less.

Axel was his mother. He was stubborn and hot-headed and impulsive, but it didn't take Roxas long to have hit some sort of soft spot within the man. He realized this during a hard mission, where he had been wounded badly by a band of Heartless in a sparsely-populated part of some world. Quivering behind a fallen log, he remembered laying there all night, desperately praying to darkness that the Heartless after him would eventually give up.

The next morning he awoke to a swift kick in the side, looking up to see Axel glaring down at his crumpled form.

"I was wondering where your stupid ass ended up."

"W-why are you here?" Roxas croaked. He hadn't expected anyone for at least two more days – it was apart of the rules. If a man went missing for more than three days, someone was assigned to find him.

"I was looking for you," Axel shrugged, grabbing the younger boy's arm and dragging him up – which was very painful for Roxas's shattered leg. He screamed.

"Stop whining, stop whining…" Axel had grumbled, picking Roxas up easily and slinging him over his shoulder like a pack of potatoes. He had carried him all the way to Castle Oblivion to be operated upon by Vexen, and had even personally reported the incident to the Superior.

Yeah, Roxas figured. Axel was one big damn softie. Not quite a mother, but the closest thing to it.

Marluxia was his father.

He was loud, demanding, and desperately overprotective. Roxas's first few times having sex with Axel or Larxene without Marluxia there had usually ended with him covered in bruises or gashes. The Graceful Assassin was not afraid to use his carnivorous fauna on the boy, if even for the most trivial reasons. It took a good half of their month together before Roxas was finally allowed to participate in sexual activities while Marluxia wasn't there.

Though over time, Marluxia had grudgingly begun to accept him. He offered harsh words during Roxas's practice battles – too slow! Hit harder! Not good enough! Try again!

He constantly hit Roxas, and the one time Roxas hit back he had been bedridden all day with a terrible illness one of Marluxia's deadly plants had caused.

And while Marluxia was abusive and usually treated like Roxas as utter shit, the man sure did have his moments when Roxas could have _sworn _he was actually proud of him. A brief smile, an encouraging – albeit hard – slap on the back, a very rare nice word.

Marluxia was an okay guy, Roxas figured.

Larxene was his big sister. She was cold and bitter and didn't care in the slightest about Roxas. She had sex with him, sure, but even then she would pinch him or poke his eyes, giggling sadistically. Roxas hated it. And as hard as Roxas tried to hate her, he just couldn't. She was funny and pretty and even occasionally had her nice moments, moments even rarer than Marluxia's.

Roxas learned to endure her put-downs and insults, her punches and pinches, her pushes and shoves. She was the only person in their group Roxas could ever hit back – they wrestled often, Larxene usually coming out as the winner. And if she didn't win, she told Marluxia, who didn't hesitate in supplying Roxas with his "prize" in the form of a harsh kick.

They weren't a real family, of course. They were all pieces of a different puzzle game, where none of them really fit and the picture they created didn't make sense, but it was all that could be done.


End file.
